


Back Alley Back-Up

by fiction_in_my_veins



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Caring, F/M, Fluff, Mysterious Stranger - Freeform, back alley, man in the suit, mild whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24167341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiction_in_my_veins/pseuds/fiction_in_my_veins
Summary: Reader works at a diner and just around closing time a handsome, injured, mysterious stranger lands at her feet. This fic follows them through the night as she tends to his wounds. But will a man who resides in the shadow of anonymity stick around in the real world?
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese, Jessica Arndt/John Reese, John Reese & Sameen Shaw, John Reese and you, John Reese/Reader, Joss Carter/John Reese, Zoe Morgan/John Reese
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Back Alley Back-Up

It had been the usual, tedious day for you at the diner. The boring monotony of endless transient customers and just enough regulars to keep it interesting, you had a love-hate relationship with your job. You were just about ready to get off your feet and go home. All you had to do was take out the trash through the backdoor.

You hummed a tune to yourself and pushed open the door with your hip, each hand holding a garbage bag. The night sky boasted of a full moon, but the competing neon lights dulled its effect.

You hauled the bags one by one into the dumpster. At the end of the alley, you could hear commotion. It was probably drunk idiots causing mayhem.

You thought about venturing forth to see what the commotion was about, but knowing these streets, it was better to return to the safety of the diner.

A rapid, incessant noise filled the air and its growing volume took you by surprise. You froze in place, half covered by the dumpster but still visible to anyone who entered the alley.

Two men tumbled over the wall, landing a few feet from you. That brought you back and you ducked behind the dumpster, unable to reach the diner without drawing attention to yourself. You pressed your palms against your ears, trying to drown out the sounds of what seemed like machine guns. You wanted to close your eyes and escape this completely, but you had to keep your wits around, lest they spotted you.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute and it was hard to concentrate on anything with it drumming in your chest.

An eternity passed.

You realized everything had been silent for quite some time.

You crawled on your knees and peeked out, shocked to see one of the men lying on the street. You looked around, making sure that he was alone and approached him.

“Sir, can you hear me? Are you injured?”

He was moving and he opened his eyes, striking and expressive, looking straight into yours.

“You need to get out of here. They might be back with more people. Go. Run.”

You were taken aback. Here you had an injured man in the back alley of a diner and he was asking you to run.

“No way, you are coming in with me.”

You bent down and helped him up. He could walk, but you made sure that you could use you for support.

“I work in this diner right here, it is empty for the night and I am in charge of locking up.”

You instantly regretted blabbering. You had given a total stranger detail about your schedule, and more importantly, told him you were all alone.

What if he was the bad guy?

The time for questions would come later, it was important to patch up this handsome stranger before anything else.

You helped him into one of the chairs and went to retrieve the first-aid kit and a bottle of scotch.

“Don’t worry, I used to volunteer as a nurse, I can more than patch you up,” you said with a smile.

“My name is Y/N and yours?”

“I am John,” he offered.

“Well, John, not to be too forward and considering that this is the first time we’ve met, I am going to ask you to take off your jacket and your shirt.”

You felt your cheeks warming up and you looked away.

“Yes, ma’am.”

John smiled at you and tried slipping off his jacket, but failed as he winced in pain.

“Oh my God, exactly how badly are you hurt? Why don’t you relax and let me take care of this?”

You walked over to him and removed his jacket with practiced ease, mumbling words of comfort every time you heard a sharp intake of breath.

You then moved in front of him, holding his hand you inspected him. His white shirt was blotted with blood, especially at the left shoulder.

“John, you are bleeding from you shoulder. I am going to have to remove your shirt too, okay?”

A world of effort prevented your hands from trembling while they went up to the buttons on his shirt. The situation had you pumped with excitement, the consequences be damned. A tall, striking man, with an air of calm and mystery, lands wounded right at your feet and here were undressing him, right in the middle of your diner.

Your hands were under control and you mentally willed your heart to beat moderately, and not motor on erratically.

You decided to look at your hands as you moved on to the next button, you hadn’t realized how slow you were going.

“No, I am fine. I am not injured. Yeah, he got away-“

You jumped back and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your wrist, gentle enough but they clearly didn’t want you move from the spot.

“Who are you talking to, John?”

He looked at you for a pregnant minute. You could almost see the lie forming in his head.

You hated liars.

“You know what? I don’t care. Your name probably isn’t even John and I am not here to get to know you better or whatever. I am just going to patch you up and toss you out and you can go ahead and shoot whoever you want.”

His finger flicked his ear and you looked at him in confusion.

“Y/n, I am wearing an ear piece, I am talking to a friend. And my name truly is John,” he said. He wasn’t even sure why he was giving you an explanation. To be completely honest, he had suffered worse injuries and walked away, but something about you had him hooked the moment he looked into your eyes. He made a split decision to follow you into the diner, to spend a few more minutes with you before he disappeared.

“So you are fed or a vigilante or something?”

“Something,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“Okay Mr. John Something, I still need to look at your body. I meant wounds,” you fumbled over your words, mentally kicking yourself for making that mistake.

John looked like he was suppressing a smile and a warm feeling spread in your chest.

He let go of your wrists and you went back to unbuttoning his shirt, this time, not lingering on each one. You peeled it away from his chest, only to reveal a white undershirt with a bullet proof vest over it.

“Aha! At least you were wearing a vest. You have rotten luck buddy, the bullet skimmed past your skin exactly wear the vest ends.”

“I met you, how rotten could my luck really be?”

You lightly smacked his chest and laughed.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere with me, John but right now you need to tell me how I can get you out of this,” you said.

He gave clear instructions and you helped him out of it, glad that this time he didn’t seem to be in pain.

“The final layer, so we can go about it in two ways. Either you let me take it off you, which might hurt like a bitch or you let me cut it off with scissors, that way you won’t have to lift your arms.”

“And which one do you prefer, y/n?”

“I actually prefer both, because then I can finally see what exactly the bullet proof vest was protecting.”

“You just had to ask, dear” John said and whipped off his undershirt.

You were gob smacked for a hot second; the expanse of skin had you rooted in your spot. You let your eyes roam freely, and when they finally landed back on his face, you were hit with guilt. His chest was bruised in two or three places but those were nothing compared to the site of blood slowly dribbling over his chest.

“God, I am such an idiot. Sorry, John. I was busy checking you out like a total perv,” you said, unfazed by your own choice of words.

You stepped closer to him, entering the V he had vacated for you between his legs. His thigh pressed lightly on both sides of you and you suppressed the shiver that touch spent up your spine.

You cleaned up his wound and patched gauze on it and informed him that it was just a surface wound. His gaze settled on your face and you basked in his attention for a minute before stepping out of his personal space.

You placed a hand on his cheek and excused yourself.

While you were rumbling through the pantry, John called his friend and partner, Harold.

“Where on Earth are you John? Your location places you at a diner near the target’s house,” Harold immediately launched into a series of questions.

“I will tell you everything later. Let’s just say I found a very caring lady who is helping me with my wounds. I called to tell you so that you wouldn’t worry,”

With that he hung up and you showed up with bags of frozen peas a couple of minutes later.

“Sorry, it took so long. I was looking for these. Now I don’t think you have any broken bones so I am hoping a cold compress and a Tylenol will do.”

You kneeled on the floor to be face to face with his torso and you missed the look of absolute fascination on his face.

You looked up at him and realized your position. You banished those dirty thoughts from your mind and willfully ignored his tall, lean, muscular form in front of you and how strong and solid his thighs felt under your palms.

You cleared your throat.

“So I am just going to feel around and see if anything is broken. I don’t know why I am telling you all this? You probably have had dozens of doctors go over you, considering the amount of injuries you have. I am just going to shut up.”

“No, y/n, please keep talking. It keeps my mind off the pain,” he said, the smile on your face not going unnoticed.

You placed on hand on his shoulder and the other over his last few ribs, directly over the developing bruise. He jerked back and you instantly apologized.

“Y/n, relax. Cold hands, that’s all,” John said and laughed.

“You scared me, I thought I hurt you. Do that again and I am going to throw a bag of peas at your head,” you said, shaking your head.

You ran your skilled fingers over his ribs, prodding and poking to find any breaks in the bone. You realized you had an ideal hand on his chest, and you were glad to feel his strumming heart under your palm.

“You’re fine. Here, hold this packet of peas over your ribs,” you handed it to him and rose up on your feet.

“I hope you like scotch,” you said as you poured him a glass, “it’s going to help with the pain.”

“Here’s to finding you when I needed you,” John said, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

He held your hand as he sipped the amber fluid, his thumbs rubbing the back of your palm. You didn’t want to ruin the moment with words. You just took it in, the dimly lit diner, the occasional beads of sweat glistening on John’s body, and his gaze consuming you.

Your phone trilled loudly, smashing the moment into shards. You walked over to your bag and answered your cell.

“Yes, Jules. I won’t forget, promise.”

Your roommate had a bad habit of guilt-tripping you into picking up groceries and running errands. You stayed on the call for a few more minutes, reassuring her every few minutes. She finally hung up and you sighed in relief, glad to finally go back to John. The whole time you were getting restless, it felt as if the time you had with him was limited and you didn’t want this to be the last time you saw him.

You walked back into the dining area, still and empty. Everything, from the piece of tape you had ripped with your teeth while fixing him up to the pack of frozen peas, it was all gone.

Of course, he would leave and remove all traces of him. So much for leaving behind a memory.

You gave the room one last glance before locking up, realizing something else was missing too.

You laughed out loud.

The bastard had even taken the bottle of scotch with him.


End file.
